Seeking Peace
by TDWidow
Summary: To learn to move on, sometimes you need a helping hand. Drabbles of HP characters who survived Deathly Hallows as they visit the graves of those who didn't. DH SPOILERS! Complete, narrator revealed!
1. The Grave of Hedwig

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** This fic is my way of dealing with some of the deaths in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Guess what – that means that there are **spoilers** for Deathly Hallows.

Each chapter will be a short ficlet in which one character visits or spends time at another's grave. A character that you all know is narrating each chapter and kudos to the reviewer who can guess who that character is before he or she is revealed in the last chapter.

To those two of you who already know who is narrating, don't spoil it for the others:-)

The text in italics at the beginning of each chapter is the first time that the dearly departed character appeared in the books.

**DISCLAIMER** JK Rowling owns these characters, not me. If I owned them, I would not have killed off some of the ones she did.

…

_Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing._

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone Page 81

…

Somehow I recognize this place, though I've never been here. I usually recognize wherever I end up because they do. They're grieving. Long ago I made it my job to help them. Well, I suppose it wasn't actually that long ago, but it feels like it.

It all started with my mother. I just could not bear to see her suffer so much. I had to help her. And then there were others. I found that I could help them too.

I'm not a ghost. But I am always nearby.

I have followed him to a Muggle neighborhood – Little Whinging in Surrey. He turns down Privet Drive and suddenly I know where he's going. He hasn't been back here since, well, since the night he lost her.

I watch Harry as he stares silently at the empty façade of Number Four Privet Drive. It's not destroyed. From the look on his face, I think he expected it to be. The moonlight reflects on his glasses as he walks slowly around to the back yard.

He frowns when he sees that the lawn is as pristine as it always was. He looks up at the back of the house, but apart from a few deep scars in the brick around one of the upstairs windows, it too is perfect.

Harry sighs and heads back toward the street. I follow him from a distance, even though I know he can't see me.

I've been wondering when I would see Harry. There were many times I thought I would, but it always turned out to be someone else. Not that I minded. I never mind helping people find peace. But I admit to wondering each time when Harry was going to need me.

The houses are falling behind and getting farther and farther between. The grass that Harry is tramping through is getting higher and browner. Soon it gives way to scrubby undergrowth stunted by the pollution from Muggle machines.

He's looking around again. For the moment, we are standing in a large empty field. Then Harry's eyes light on something glinting dully in the faint white moonlight. A mixture of relief and dread floods his face. I know that look well. I have seen it in the eyes of every single person I've visited.

Slowly Harry approaches the dark lump and runs his hand over the ruined metal. It is twisted and charred, but I can still see the outline of what it used to be – the sidecar of a motorbike.

Harry drops to his knees beside it. For a moment, I know that he is thinking about the man who once owned the vehicle, about his beloved Godfather. But then he sees the blackened outline of a metal cage.

Tears gather in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, girl," he says softly. Hesitantly, he wraps his fingers around the rusty bars. "I'm so sorry I had to leave you. Can you ever forgive me?"

There is always a moment that people open themselves up for me to help them. This is that moment with Harry. I can feel the right thing to do and silently I call out for help.

A light flutter suddenly echoes through the darkness. Harry looks up just in time to see a small gray owl swooping down toward him.

It lands on his shoulder as he stands up. "Hi," he says and reaches up to gently stroke the owl's wing.

There is no letter or anything attached to the bird's leg. Harry frowns. "What are you doing here?" he asks. There is no suspicion in his voice, only curiosity.

For a moment, neither one moves. Then the owl releases Harry's shoulder and flies back into the night sky. And when Harry looks back down at the remains of the sidecar and the owl cage inside, there is less sorrow.

After another long minute, Harry pulls out his wand. It is his original wand. I know that he is happy to have it back. To a wizard, the destruction of a wand can be like the death of a friend.

He mutters an incantation and with a flick of his wand transfigures the sidecar and cage into a large boulder. It looks half-buried in the ground. No Muggle would even think to try to move it.

Harry gives the stone a last loving pat, then turns on the spot and disappears. I look more closely at the rock that marks the final resting place and smile. Just above where the ground and the boulder meet, Harry has inscribed one word.

_Hedwig_.


	2. The Grave of Mad Eye Moody

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Two good guesses on who the narrator could be, but no kudos yet! Keep guessing! Glad you're all enjoying the story so far.

Remember these are drabbles, so they aren't very long.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone.

…

_A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long man of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teacher's table._

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 184

…

She has led me to a forest completely removed from everything. This was one of the places they hid. I don't really know why she has come here, but I am here with her, so she must be upset about something. About someone.

It's not as dark as the Forbidden Forest. In fact, there is something warm and comforting about these woods.

The way she moves slowly, peering at every tree, makes me think that she's looking for something specific, but I don't think that she knows exactly what it is. The deeper into the forest we go, the closer she starts looking at the tree trunks.

Finally she stops, apparently having found what she was looking for. I follow her eyes and see it too. I laugh silently. Suddenly it all becomes obvious.

A huge ancient tree stands alone in a glade. Its twisted and gnarled bark reminds me of him. There is a cross carved deep in the wood.

"Hi," Hermione says cautiously. "I – Harry told me where to find this. I mean, you. At least the part of you that we could find."

She looks sadly down at the small mound by her feet. I know what's buried there – Alastor Moody's magical eye. He was very happy when Harry stole back the eye from that evil woman at the Ministry. And he was touched when Harry buried it.

Now Hermione is here. Honestly, I'm a little surprised. I never thought that she and the old Auror were close. Of all the people to visit Moody's grave, I never expected her to need my presence.

"I never really knew you," Hermione says. "Especially since the you who taught us Defense Against the Dark Arts for a year wasn't really you." She sighs and I see tears in her eyes. "And I never got to know you while you were working for the Order. I'm sorry."

Then it hits me. She feels guilty. Here was a man who gave everything, ultimately his life, to protect her and her closest friends, and she had never known who he really was.

When I was alive, I never really knew Hermione Granger. There was never a point where our lives intersected. But I know that what I am seeing now is a part of her that she has rarely shown anyone, except maybe Ron and Harry.

She is talking again. "So maybe I'm not the best person to do this, but only Harry and I know where this forest is." She sniffs and wipes away another tear. "And I thought someone should come and visit your grave."

Something changes in her demeanor. With a small smile, she lays her hand on the cross magically engraved in the tree. "I'll come back," she says. "I'll bring flowers or something." But then she looks up at the old tree that looks so much like Moody and shakes her head. "Or maybe not."

And then she turns to walk away. I'm confused at first. It feels like I haven't done anything to help her. Yet I can tell that she feels comforted.

Then I realize that maybe she just didn't want to be alone. Even though she wasn't aware of me being there, I think that deep down she was happy that somebody was with her while she visited the lonely forest grave.

A pop echoes through the forest as Hermione Disapparates. I don't need to be here any longer, but I don't feel like leaving immediately. So I linger for a minute. For a second, it almost seems as though I can smell the pine in the air.


	3. The Grave of Dobby

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** This chapter and the last chapter were the two that I was most looking forward to writing. Not that I enjoyed writing them, because this whole fic is sad and this one and the last one especially.

Another note – I've had some people guess that the one whose grave it is is narrating. That's not the case either. It's the same narrator for each chapter. Keep guessing!

**DISCLAIMER** I don't own any of these characters.

…

_The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls._

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets Page 12

…

She wanders down from the house – the strange little girl who everyone at school discounted as crazy. But from the very beginning of the second war against Voldemort, Luna Lovegood proved herself as one of the smartest and bravest witches Ravenclaw House has ever seen.

Don't look so shocked, by the way. His followers killed me. I have no fear of saying his name.

The grave is marked by a smooth white stone and flowers. Luna is carrying more flowers, although they are not any kind of flowers that I have ever seen. The blossoms are bright yellow and hang upside-down like thick woolen hats.

She sets them down near the stone. "Hello Dobby," she says softly as she settles down in the garden. "I thought you'd like some flowers." Then she looks around. "But I guess you've got a lot here already."

She looks content to be sitting there alone in the garden by the cliff. "Bill and Fleur were nice enough to let me come visit you," she says. "They are always rather nice to me. I think it's because Ron and Ginny and the twins were in Dumbledore's Army with me. They were all very nice to me too."

A small sigh escapes her lips. "Sometimes I think I would have liked to marry one of the Weasleys, but it's too late for that now. Oh well. Perhaps I'll marry Dean Thomas. He was very nice to me while we were all in that basement."

Absentmindedly she picks up a fallen blossom and begins picking off the petals. "You know, we really did appreciate what you did for all of us that night. And we were all very sad when you died, especially Harry." Then she adds very quietly, "And me."

For the first time, I see tears in Luna Lovegood's eyes. Never once did she cry because of teasing from her classmates or from seeing people die in battle. Only here at the grave of a house elf does she let any tears come.

"You remind me of me, Dobby," she says. "Always wanting to help but never sure how. Always wanting friends but being too different."

I have never heard her voice like this. Some of the dreaminess is gone. Some of her innocence is gone.

She reaches up and takes off her butterbeer cork necklace. Laying it on the ground by the stone, she says, "You can have this. It protects you from the nargles. I can't come visit much, so it will protect you when I'm not here."

Something draws her attention up at the cottage. Quickly she wipes the tears away. "I'll try to come back soon, Dobby," she says. "But Dad and I are going on a Snorkack hunt, so I have to go." There is a sudden catch in her voice. "Try not to get too lonely."

From where I am, I have very little power over anything around the people I watch, but there are times when I can reach out. As Luna stands to leave, a small flower suddenly shoots up from the grass in the center of where she has laid the necklace.

She watches it grow and blossom, its petals a soft blue. The look of delight is back in her eyes. I know that I've done my job. Finally she heads back to Bill and Fleur's cottage.


	4. The Grave of Nymphadora Tonks

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Another round of very good guesses, but no one's gotten it yet! Keep guessing!

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone. JKR does.

…

_She looked the youngest there; she had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair that was a violent shade of violet._

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix Page 47

…

In some parts of England, old families are allowed to bury their loved ones in family plots on private property. Not with me. I was buried in a secluded corner of a peaceful public graveyard.

But this is the case with the Tonks's. By the edge of the pond by the house, three headstones mark the graves of three of the best fighters I ever saw.

The first is Ted Tonks. I was there when he died. It was only by his death that Dean Thomas and the goblin were able to escape.

Beside his grave are those of his daughter and son-in-law. Andromeda Tonks had known that Remus Lupin had no family and wanted him to be with his wife. So the stones marked Ted Tonks and Remus Lupin flank the one that reads Nymphadora Tonks Lupin.

The sun has just come up and Andromeda has come out to visit as she does every morning. Odd. She has never needed me before. But then I see what she is carrying and it all makes sense.

The baby is only three or four months old. His hair is canary yellow today. I grin. I bet he'll be a Hufflepuff just like his mother.

"Good morning, Dora," Andromeda says, a false brightness in her voice. She nods and murmurs a good morning to Ted and Remus as well, then turns back to the middle grave. "I brought someone to see you."

Her voice breaks and she starts crying. "Oh Dora, why did you have to fight? Why didn't you stay behind like Remus asked?"

She sniffs and looks at her grandson. "Someday I'll tell you all about them, Teddy," she says. "About your grandfather. About your dad, who was your cousin Sirius's best friend. And about your mum."

Turning back to the headstone, she wipes the tears off of her cheek. "He's so much like you, Dora. He seems to like the neon colors, like you did. Bright blue usually, although today it's yellow. I wish you could see him."

Teddy babbles a little and even though I can tell that she's hurting, Andromeda smiles a little. "Yes Teddy. This is your mum."

Seeing Andromeda mourning her daughter reminds me painfully of watching my own mother. She was so broken up after I died. I tried to help her, to make the pain less, but I was grieving too.

Some people, even most people, are at peace when they die. I wasn't. There was so much I still wanted to do. I had parents who loved me. I had friends who liked me and supported me. I had a _life_. How could I be dead?

I was angry then. Angry at a lot of people who did not deserve it. I realize only now how lucky I was not to end up as a ghost bound to earth forever.

Andromeda is crying again. I feel completely helpless. There is nothing that can ease the pain of losing a child.

But I watch her as she clutches her grandson tearfully and suddenly an idea occurs to me. I cannot make the loss easier, but maybe I can help to remind her that those we love never truly leave us.

When Andromeda looks at Teddy, there is an intense mixture of love and grief in her eyes. The boy's hair is now bubble-gum pink.

"You're going to be just like your mum," she whispers. "As good and brave as your mum and as strong and loyal as your dad. I promise."

Looking at the graves one last time, she smiles a sad goodbye. Then she glances at the sky and says to Teddy, "Come on, little one. Let's get some breakfast."


	5. The Grave of Remus Lupin

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** No one's gotten it yet…this is the last chance you have to guess the narrator before he/she is revealed in the next chapter!

Also, this one's set up a little differently than the others. It takes place two years later than the others, so two years after Deathly Hallows ends, but Teddy is the focus and I figured he wouldn't quite be old enough to feel the kind of emotions that the characters in the other chapters feel. At least, he wouldn't be aware of them. So this chapter's a bit different.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own them.

…

_The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray._

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban Page 74

…

It has been nearly two years since that immortal June day when Harry Potter defeated Voldemort once and for all. I have watched the world that I once loved so much slowly begin to heal. Friends and family were laid to rest and mourned and those who survived learned to move on. Time has started to work its magic.

Yet here I am again, in the same place I remember being before. It is night this time and a small child crawls out of the house into the grass, seeming very pleased with himself that he escaped detection. I recognize Teddy immediately, though he is no longer a baby and has blue hair today instead of pink or yellow.

Determinedly he continues across the lawn until he finally reaches the small cemetery. There, he puts his small hands on the cool stone of his father's grave and pulls himself to his feet. He smiles at his accomplishment, then sits down and runs his hands through the early spring grass.

A presence appears behind me out of nowhere. "He's getting so big."

I chuckle. "Usually this is supposed to be the other way around," I say. "I comfort the living, not the dead."

Remus Lupin comes up beside me and gazes at where his son sits by his grave. "I worry about him," he says quietly.

"Why?" I ask. "Andromeda loves him. And Harry dotes on him more than any Godfather I have ever seen."

Remus smiles sadly. "Harry is a good man."  
He is quiet. After a minute, I ask, "So why do you worry? Your son is well cared for. He is loved. And someday he will know how brave his parents were."

I can tell my words have had little effect on him. He continues to stare at the boy sitting by his headstone. Finally he says, "I am afraid of what I did to him."

"Leaving him an orphan was not exactly your idea," I say gently.

Remus shakes his head and for a moment I see him as tortured as I remember him being in life, though in death the gray in his hair and the added years in his face have fallen away. "Not that."

"Then what?"

There is something in his voice almost like shame. "I am sorry for what he is because of me," he admits.

I smile. "He is nothing because of you except a happy and affectionate little boy."

"How can you be sure?"

Before us, Teddy looks up at the night sky. I gesture to him and say, "See for yourself."

The light of the full moon shines down on Teddy's face. Remus half-laughs, half-sobs. "He isn't a werewolf."

I shake my head. "No, he isn't."

He is unable to speak at first and I see how tortured he must have been during his life. I was never close to him like some of the people I knew, but once I found out that he was a werewolf, it did not change my opinion of him. But I am also not naïve enough to believe that all people are as open-minded about it as I was.

"Thank you," he finally whispers, though I'm not sure if he's talking to me or not. Then he asks, "Will he know how much Dora and I love him?"

"Absolutely."

Andromeda's voice floats down from the house. Giggling, Teddy gets up on his hands and knees and starts back toward the house.

Remus is no longer beside me. Somehow I know that I won't have to come back here again.


	6. The Grave of Fred Weasley

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** All right, here we are at the end! I was going to wait a couple days before I posted this last chapter, but I've been watching Deathly Hallows memorial videos on YouTube and now I'm all in the somber mood. So I decided to post this last chapter now.

Couple of last notes – I originally was going to write chapters for Ted Tonks, Colin Creevey, and Snape as well. I tried to write the Ted one with Dean, but I just didn't feel that we got to know Ted well enough. Colin I couldn't choose a person to visit his grave that I knew well enough to write. And Snape, well, it should be Harry who visited his grave and Harry already had a chapter. So those three were also in my heart as I wrote this.

Finally, no one guessed the narrator correctly, although you all had wonderful guesses. A lot of you guessed Fred, which would have worked with every chapter except this one, as this is Fred's grave. I saved it for last because the twins are my favorite characters (along with Lupin – you can guess how much fun I had reading DH) and it was the one I was most looking forward to writing. I hope I did the characters justice. And I apologize now. I just couldn't end it any other way.

It also has occurred that the title of this story is a clue to the narrator's identity, but I never pointed that out. So I'm sorry! Hopefully you'll still let me know what you think!

Thank you all for reading! Narrator is revealed in this chapter…

**DISCLAIMER** I don't own anyone.

…

_"Fred, you next," the plump woman said._

_"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you _tell_ I'm George?"_

_"Sorry, George, dear."_

_"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone._

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone Page 92

…

Human beings do not want to hurt. It is human nature to want to avoid pain and be happy. But there are times when something happens that becomes too much. It eats away at the mind and the soul and no matter how much time passes, happiness becomes impossible.

It is April 1st, 2000. Today is supposed to be the Weasley twins' twenty-second birthday.

Now it is only the birthday of one twin. I have been watching George for a long time. I have worried about him. And I have finally realized that there is nothing I can do.

I remember Fred and George as everyone does – talented wizards, incurable pranksters, and best friends. They did everything they could to make sure that they made life at Hogwarts and at the Burrow fun, or at the very least more interesting and they did it together. They were famous and infamous. They loved their family and loved their friends.

But the George I see today is none of those things. This George has spent the entire day sitting in the orchard outside the Burrow. His cloak is wet from sitting in the damp grass and there is a red mark on his temple where he has leaned his head against the stone that reads Fred Weasley.

Every member of his family has come out to try to coax him back inside. Bill and Fleur were first, followed by Charlie and Percy, then Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. Finally his parents tried to talk to him, pleading with him to at least come inside and eat something, but George has not moved all day.

Every single person I have visited has been in pain. They have all lost people close to them. But each one was also able to overcome that pain and move on with their life. Now, looking at George, I understand why. They all still had the will to live.

I don't know how long I can stay. I have never had to just watch someone and wait for something to change. I know at some point I will be forced to leave, but right now I feel like I must stay as long as I can for George's sake.

Watching him sitting there is almost as painful as watching my mum by my grave. George doesn't even cry. He simply sits there, his head resting on his brother's headstone and his eyes staring at nothing.

He blinks once, then slowly his eyes begin to close. Panic rises up and suddenly engulfs me, but it's too late.

"Cedric?"

I turn at the sound of my name and see him looking at me, frowning. "Cedric Diggory?" he asks again.

With a sad smile, I nod. "Hi George."

He turns and looks and jumps when he sees his own body still sitting beside the grave. "Oh Merlin," he says quietly.

"I don't think it was supposed to happen this way," I say, shaking my head. "I was supposed to help you. I've helped everyone else. I'm sorry."

George is staring at his former self, a thoughtful look on his face. After a minute, he looks back at me. "I'm dead," he says.

I nod. "Yeah."

"Hmm." He seems to contemplate this for a minute. "All right then."

He's taking it a lot better than I did, that's for sure. "Are you okay?" I ask slowly.

"I think so," he replies, still looking deep in thought. Then he glances at me and asks, "What happens now? Where are we? What are you doing here anyway?"

I am about to answer, but I see someone approaching over George's shoulder. I decide to keep my mouth shut and wait. "Well?" George asks.

"Don't worry, Forge," the other figure says. "I'll explain everything."

The happiness and life that had been absent for so long rushes back into George's eyes as he grins. He spins around and faces his twin.

"Fred."


End file.
